Still need to learn from theme party

By Jose Arreola

I would like to preface my comments by stating that the following article presents my own personal perspective and in no way represents the views of the Multicultural Center.

I remember feeling so disheartened as a freshman upon hearing about the infamous "south of the border party." I honestly believed a community of highly educated college students would not be capable of such a thing, especially not on a campus that espouses social justice, multiculturalism and inclusive excellence as part of its defining characteristics. As a first generation college student, it was a disenfranchising introduction to college life. But as I reflect on my three years here at Santa Clara, I have come to a few conclusions I wish to share in light of another racially themed "hip-hop/rap" party that was held fairly recently.

I'm convinced that the issue is not the racist theme parties or the individuals who attend them. The issue, in earnest, is our connection -- as elite, privileged and highly educated college students -- to the realities of marginalized communities in the United States.

A common justification for parties like this is that there was no intention of offending anyone; if anyone was offended, they were simply taking things too seriously or being overly sensitive. This explanation is not surprising. In fact, it seems to be the only rational response within the context of a post-race, post-civil rights society, a society which is free from racism and oppression, thanks to the civil rights movement. This narrative is not only simplistic and false, but it's also dangerous because it allows us to conceal the racism that occurs within a college campus. We have been conditioned to believe that any claim of racism or discrimination is an overreaction. Yet the argument of over-sensitivity should be negated once we are able to come to terms with a society still entrenched in the legacy of racial stratification.

The reason a thug or ghetto party is so offensive is because there is an obvious disconnect between the reality of our lives as college students at a private university and the reality of the communities we portray in our attempts to have fun. Because of our privileged backgrounds we are able to dress up as a gang member without ever having to confront the struggles and difficulties of that lifestyle; we can put on a bandana and never worry about getting killed or beaten as a result.

We can carry ourselves like rappers without having the slightest notion of what life as a poor person of color, in a multi-billion dollar entertainment industry feels like.

But for those who understand or live that reality, the pictures from the party can only be interpreted one way: a mockery of those who are marginalized in our society. This is an exercise of power, a conscious or unconscious public display of all the groups we have been conditioned to think we are superior to, whether it be working class whites, people of color, women or immigrants.

But it's also important to examine the factors that lead to such events.

Rap culture, for example, has been finely packaged and sold to us since our early teenage years. And with no tangible examples or scholarship in our lives to analyze and critique the messages and images sold to us, it seems reasonable to me that we would express "ghetto" in the same manner as it was communicated to us. This is what I saw when I looked at the pictures of the recent theme party: a crude manifestation of a culture sold for mass consumption.

It's as if we are under the impression that we can own lifestyles in the same manner that we own CDs or movies. The only problem with this is that the African-American community, which serves as the primary agents for the transmission of these messages, have little to no control over the authenticity of the messages. Therefore, all that is really transferred are overly simplistic caricatures perpetuated by those of us who consume it in exchange for our disposable income.

But the real issue stems from the type of community Santa Clara attempts to create, and the serious contradiction presented by the experience of students of color and other marginalized communities on this campus. It is at this level that the discourse must take place if we ever wish to fulfill the potential and promise of our university.

Jose Arreola is a senior political science major and director of the Multicultural Center.